


Opportunity makes a thief

by UdSoul



Series: Assholes in love [16]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Attempted Suicide, BAMF Natasha Stark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Liberties with everything, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki/Tony Stark (complicated), M/M, Masochism, Mental Health Issues, Multiverse, Natasha Stark is in love, Sadism, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark dark, Tony Stark does NOT have a heart, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unspecified Setting, Unstable Characters, female Tony Stark (Natasha), grey morality, protective natasha stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-10-01 21:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20404246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UdSoul/pseuds/UdSoul
Summary: Natasha Maria (Tasha) Stark was not a happy kid. She was an unwanted kid. She was a loner, but she met a God. A fucked up God, who chose to fall. Natasha jumped after him.A stupid, irrational, on the spot decision, that gave her much grief, especially when her fucked up God rolled over and died.Then she had fallen knowingly and discovered multiverse.She was truly happy to know that for some of their versions everything was coming up roses.She didn't plan to visit any of the universes, until, she did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well...it is what it is, and there's that. :)  
Enjoy

He was losing. The nightmares that kept eating his sanity and rubbing him of the precious minutes he could be healing; the guilt that was shattering whatever wish to function he managed to snatch and the hate, that poured from anyone he came close to – caught up with him. His magic was exhausted. His body wasn’t keeping up and his mind longed for it to be over.

He missed another punch and barely managed to create a barrier that shielded him from the explosion. But the blast sent him flying into a wall, and he spewed blood, falling, like a useless sack of bones. The enemy cackled, drunk on its victory. The Chitauri raised its weapons to finish him off. He smirked brokenly. In the end, even Thanos hasn’t deemed him worthy enough to take back. Truly a miserable picture.

Some part of him whined and raged at his apathetic behaviour. His magic begged him to reconsider and rebel, for Nines sake! Stand up and fight, mewling quim! Don’t give them the satisfaction! It roared and threatened, but the trigger was already pulled, and he didn’t have enough energy or motivation to dodge it.

The fatal shot hadn’t touched him. Between one blink and another, his view of his imminent end was blocked by a rather appealing and curvaceous rare, that spotted a slender waist and delicately build back. He liked the view, but not the feeling. His magic jumped and roared, hissing wantonly and confusedly, leaving him rapidly to curl around the clever hands of the mysterious female.

“You retched bugs!” She yelled and lashed out at them, using his power. “I’ve been so fucking close to peace! I will gut you and then find your master and dance on his rotting corpse! Fucking morons!”

His magic vibrated in her hold, singing loudly and happily. It was jumping, slicing and mutilating his and hers enemies without a fuss, deliriously frivolous and joyful. It treated her like its mate, and Loki hadn’t the will to cut the performance short. He willingly allowed (not that she needed his permission) his energy to dance away with her, and the bliss that washed over him was close to rapturous.

Unfortunately, the divine maiden was highly skilled and beyond furious, thus, the show didn’t last long. It took her about five minutes to obliterate the Chitauri, and when she was done, she kept yelling profanities to the skies promising to rein hell on their heads. His magic was lashing out below her feet, wishing to soothe her and wipe the maggots.

As it seems motivation to go on materialised out of nowhere, and Loki should have stopped and thought this through. His magic was hostile to everyone, including his mother after the revelation of his parentage, and he had vast amounts of enemies lurking around and waiting for a slight chance to destroy him, thus, logically, he should be, at least, concerned, but he wasn’t. This mysterious, beautiful woman, who was throwing a temper tantrum, was enthralling, and instead of running away, Loki wanted to walk towards her.

Loki slowly got up on his feet, flinching from the pain that bloomed in his chest. He might have cracked a couple of ribs. The woman kept listing the creative, and vicious ways of making Thanos and his goons miserable, eliciting a couple of good-humoured laughs from Loki. She knew how to insult well.

“Would you mind if I take it back?” Loki asked her, when she stopped ranting.

She turned to him, startled by his voice. The sheepish expression was stuck on her gorgeous features; her violet eyes were filled with embarrassment and guilt. The corner of her lush lips was turned in an attractive, soft grin. Her white, curly hair was falling in heavy weaves down her head, obstructing his view of the lean, curvy figure a bit, and his fingers ached to touch her.

She was stunning. Loki has been everywhere and tried many, but never has he come across such an alluring picture.

“You don’t need to ask. It’s yours.” She said, and then bit her lip. A rosy hue dusting her cheeks. “But would you awfully mind if I keep just a tiny bit? It feels remarkably good.”

“I ask, because I’m not sure it will wish to come back.” He only half-joked, physically feeling how unwilling his magic was to part with the woman.

“Oh…” She remarked, but her eyes alighted with delight. “Go on now, shoo.” She cooed, speaking to his magic directly. The willingness of his energy to bend to her whim impressed Loki; not that he minded or didn’t want to do the same, and again, this was a great moment to stop and ponder on the inexplicable and instant attraction he felt towards the woman, but, he didn’t. He took it in stride and decided that he liked it. Sue him, but it was so long since he felt something positive towards another living being, so, he was insane enough to enjoy it, without freaking out needlessly.

When his magic did return, he noticed, that it was completely replenished; may be even stronger than it was before. It was pleasant and not so much simultaneously, because the moment it touched his body his magic noticed how fucked up it was and didn’t hesitate to patch him up. He grunted, coughing.

“Are you all right?” She asked, touching his shoulder gently. The gesture and the soft concern burning in her violet depths made his heart clench painfully.

“Yes.” He said, gritting his teeth when another stab of pain wracked through him.

“Liar.” She remarked, but her smile wasn’t less soft, nor her eyes lost their concerned look.

“You will find that it’s my nature.” Loki remarked, feeling his knees tremble.

“I’m aware.” She said, pushing him back. “I think, you’d better sit down.”

Loki stumbled, his body feeling weak under the assault of the aggressive healing power of his magic. But he refused to give in. He had his pride, and Nines, he didn’t wish to show his brokenness and unworthiness to her. He wanted if only for a second to appear as the God he meant to be.

“I’m fi…” He went to brush her concern off, but the words got caught in his throat the moment her fingertips touched his lips to silence him. The touch was barely there. A very light pressure of skin that send sparks of pleasure down his nerve endings. He managed to swallow a moan and stop a shudder of appreciation but couldn’t halt his eyelids from closing to saviour the feeling.

“Don’t waste your breath, Loki.” She murmured teasingly, and he stared at her amused smirk, that made his insides twist with raw desire. His name sounded deliciously tempting in that soft tone of voice. He should have wondered how in Nines she knows him, but instead he chose to dwell on his rapidly growing craving. “Your masks are brilliant, but they have nothing on the man beneath them.”

“As sweet as your words sound, you have no idea what’s underneath them.” Loki said shortly after recovering from the shocking warmth that engulfed him. She was wonderfully tempting, and maybe she had heard some stories about him that made a wrong impression, but beneath his skin a monster was hiding, and that was not public knowledge.

“That’s debatable.” She hummed, stubbornly pushing him down and this time he conceded, sliding down the wall. She immediately sat across him; their legs nearly touching. He could feel the heat of her body sipping into his skin, and it felt wonderful.

“Is it?” He challenged, watching her play with a tiny piece of his magic, which pulsed and sparkled and glowed, eager to please her.

“Yes.” She said, a tender smile blooming on her lips while she was caressing it, and Loki foolishly wished it was him instead. “Your magic, per example, is not malicious, even though its formidable and more than capable of doing harm.”

“It says little about the wielder.” Loki brushed her off, feeling disconcerted by her willingness to see good in him. He was treated as an evil, half-insane failure long enough for him to start doubting that he was anything but a monster that parents were telling their children about.

“But it still tells me something. A heap of something if to be exact. Never thought that your magic would be so chatty.” She shared, and he flinched. It shouldn’t come off as a surprise, since his magic practically drooled at the opportunity to connect with her.

The woman was extraordinary. She accepted Loki’s magic, and by the looks of it, was enamoured equally with the energy, and for the first time since their meeting, Loki felt concern, because their mutual infatuation spelled trouble for him. His magic was a part of him, and as such knew everything there’s to know about his essence. If it speaks to her, then in a short time she’ll own him.

“I’m in your hands than.” Loki concluded, finding it useless to deceive her. The tiny bit of energy she kept will tell her that he’s lying.

“No, not at all. I am grateful to you for allowing me to keep a part of it. It truly feels astounding, and I swear I won’t pry or listen to it, if you don’t want me to. Well, at least, I won’t listen to it if it’s not concerning your well-being.” She corrected herself, looking sheepish again.

“Why would you care?” Loki asked perplexed by her affection.

“’Cos I like you.” She said, shrugging nonchalantly, and then giggling infectiously at his gaping surprise.

“You don’t know me or what I have done.” Loki tried to reason, worry raising in him. She met his obvious discomfit with an amused smile.

“I care little for that, though. You feel good. I missed it and I like it, as simple as that.” She explained offhandedly, still smiling at him charmingly. 

“I’m not sure I can accept that.” Loki murmured, torn between wishing to jump straight into this bizarre situation and running for the hills. He wanted her, but she was delusional.

“I am sure I don’t care about it either. It is what it is.” She shrugged, and Loki rolled his eyes at her. Infuriating creature, but, well, it’s not like he had a vast pool to choose from, and, honestly, what he had to lose? Before she appeared, he was in the process of committing suicide, thus, a prospect of being _liked _by a stunning, mentally unstable woman didn’t sound so bad.

“How did you come to be here? Where are you from and what do you have against the Chitauri and their master?” Loki decided to clarify this, instead of focusing of her bizarre attachment to him.

“I came here because of them. I was on my way to serenity. Took me thousands to find the right thread, and I was finally near the doors, when Thanos sensed me and send his goons to capture me. It resulted in a conflict, which threw me from my path, and I landed here.” She explained calmly. It made little sense to Loki, except for one thing – she was immensely powerful.

“Who are you?” The God asked, suddenly regretting his careless permission for his magic to stay with her.

“I am not sure.” She drawled, being painfully sincere. “At one point, I was human, I think. But then stuff happened, and I got sucked into a void, where I had a choice to make and I chose to live, and since then I was falling, lost among the stars, being driven mad and then patched up by the voices of the Universe. I am quite sure I am not what I was, but what I am now is, well, me.”

“You were in the void?” Loki asked perplexed, a certain terror entering his eyes.

“Yes. I spent awful lot of time there. Dreadful place. But then again, you would know.” She commented, looking at him pointedly.

“I certainly do. You look rather healthy.” Loki said, looking at her with amazement, and not freaking out enough. He should panic by now. He should panic just because he was not panicking, and, yet, he felt safe, and happy, and not a cell in his body wished to jeopardise this, whatever it was.

“Yes. I was blessed by the resilient and rather sturdy mind, unfortunately.” She shared, and Loki flinched perfectly understanding what she meant. She wasn’t hallowed by the madness, only touched by it, which amplified the horrors and the torture. “I learnt a ton, though. Of course, I’d prefer a different type of learning, less brain damaging, but I guess the creatures of the Universe have a rather dark sense of humour.”

“Have you learnt magic there or did you have the inclination from the beginning?” Loki asked curious and, despite sympathising with her, he was glad to find another being who understood without saying the horrors he’s been through. Stark only saw a glimpse and his undeniably brilliant, but still mortal mind, couldn’t grasp it all.

“No, I didn’t, nor I learnt magic. While I have been stuck in the void, I have developed an uncanny ability to connect with the energy and rudely bend it to my will. Frankly, it could be any. That’s about it.” She explained honestly, making him gulp.

“Basically, you can do anything.” Loki concluded, shuddering despite himself. Fuck, he messed up big time.

“Theoretically, yes. Practically not so much. I will be able to stand my ground against, probably, anyone, ‘cos life is an energy too, and, as you have witnessed, I don’t need a permission to take it. However, I can take only as much as my body can store, and even though the amount improved considerably, it’s still too little to be as deadly as you think I could be.” She said, smiling at him softly.

“Ah, you have no magical core or knowledge how to store the excess of power.” Loki concluded, relaxing a notch.

“I have the knowledge. But I don’t have a core nor the means to create one, or at least, I didn’t have it until…” She smirked at him then sharply, and twisted his magic into a neat jar, that he knew had a deep bottom. “Your magic is handy.” She purred, dispelling it.

Loki swallowed thickly, eyeing the mischievous woman. She twisted him around her little finger, and Loki let her, like the fool he was.

“Why my magic?” Loki asked, his voice shaking despite his attempts to mask his distress. He should have known it was a trick. No one sane or otherwise, would harbour any positive feelings towards him. Loki was a tool to be used, not a person to love. He should have grasp it by now, and yet, his foolish heart yearned to be recognised and jumped at the slightest opportunity to be adored, like an abandoned dog threw itself at the strangers feet in hopes that someone will show mercy and adopt it.

“Ah, you see, energies are not keen to be used. They give permissions reluctantly if ever, and when you don’t have a permission it’s hard to bent it to your desires and unfortunately, they still manage to fuck it up.” She growled, pouting. “Like the energy of the tree, unruly thing. Your magic, though, had no problems with its utilisation. Ah, and I apologise for feeding the Yggdrasil energy to your magic, without asking for permission, but I needed the power and it was exhausted. I still have quite a bit of it, so if you wish I can give it to you. Your magic seems to adore it.”

“You would?” Loki asked, perplexed. The pure energy of Yggdrasil was a power fix Loki won’t miss out on, even if it came from the hands of enticing deluder. The energy of the tree could fix anything, and Nines to get his hands on its pure form; the things he could do with it; his head spun with possibilities, and then they crashed against the growing paranoia. He had to remember what she was truly after, and it was not his well-being.

“Yes, sure. You mind?” She asked stretching her hand but not taking. The show of consideration pleasantly surprised Loki, and raised his hackles, simultaneously. Loki was livid, and heartbroken. The bitch knew him well indeed. 

“Be my guest.” Loki allowed, watching her carefully. She smiled at him in that soft way, that melted Loki’s heart and sliced it, taking a bit of his magic and creating another jar, which in an instant was filled with the Yggdrasil’s energy. Loki’s mouth went dry at the view of the power that was shining upon him. His magic purred delightfully, and he found it hard not to do the same.

“Here you go.” She said, giving it back to him. Loki took it reverently, his hands shaking a bit from the supressed emotions.

“Don’t you want it?” He asked, hinting that she had a compliant magic too. She shook her head, smiling at him amusedly. “Right. You can get it anytime.” Loki clipped, reminding himself, who he was talking too.

“Mhm. But you missed an obvious advantage here.” She sing-sang.

“That would be?” Loki asked, confused.

“If you wish, you can get it anytime too.” She declared boldly. Loki blinked at her and blinked again.

“Why would you do such a thing?” He asked perplexed, torn with the puzzling feelings. Why she kept playing the affectionate card when it was clear that he was caught already?

“I and your magic are very compatible. Honestly, if I believed in such things, I would say we were made for each other. Moreover, it’s such a pain to battle with the energies, and especially the ill effects they leave as a gift. Frankly, I am fed up with it and you are a blessing, thus, I will do anything to keep you safe and your magic happy, since it directly correlates with my wellbeing.” She explained, and Loki paled.

It became crystal clear now, why she has chosen him. Loki, after all, was the most powerful mage in Nines, and his core strength was legendary.

He had to play it cool and get rid of her as soon as possible, that would be the smart thing to do, but he was tired. The despair came back tenfold, and he gave up. What does it matter, really? He wanted to die anyway.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to get rid of me?” He asked, his tone flat. She played him well. His magic was, already, obsessed with her and he was positive that it won’t take her long to convince it to dispose of him.

She rolled her eyes at him, snorting bemusedly.

“No, it wouldn’t.” She said, and he guessed won’t explain further. But he needed to know why she was hell bent on keeping him alive. He wanted to understand what he did to warrant this morbid torture. Thus, Loki opened his mouth to argue the point further, so he could catch her on her lies and force the truth out of her, but shut it, when she suddenly appeared in his space, their lips a breath apart. Her scent was intoxicating, and his head became fuzzy, and abruptly all he wanted to do is to seal their lips in a primal kiss. “Whatever horrible scenarios you came up with won’t fly. Your magic thinks the world of you. It will destroy anything and anyone to keep you safe, and I concur. We care Loki, deal with it.” She finalised, and he whined. The sound a perfect mix between frustration and need to have more.

She was confusing the sanity out of him. He couldn’t believe that she truly cared. That was insane even for him, and, yet, he didn’t want to accept anything else.

“Reindeer games?” The metallic voice disturbed the moment, and she slipped away, chuckling at his unimpressed snort and his hands grabbed her automatically to keep the closeness. “Care to explain?” Stark asked, landing near them, and stepping closer.

“Anthony.” Loki greeted, and got a puzzled glance from a woman, that was filled with suspicion.

He and Stark had an arrangement of sorts. He even fooled himself that Anthony cared for him in his twisted way. The illusion was not solid, but it helped him to get through especially bad nights. Her blatant favouritism, though, evaporated the lie. It stung, but this few moments of factitious adoration, will be much more beneficial to him and his sanity then Stark could ever give him. Plus, his magic shamelessly swirled around her sucking in the sentiment she had for it and feeding it to him. He felt warm and safe; constantly reminded that he was needed and cherished; and, fuck, it was his magic in her hands. He could read her as easily as she could read him. Darn, he was out of it lately.

“I see you’ve made new friends, Loki.” She teased in a way that suggested they knew each other well and were close. “I’m jealous. I thought I’m your only friend.”

“A friend?” Stark echoed, perplexed. Loki had enough wits about him to switch his poker face on. As it seems, she wasn’t bluntly honest. He was simply special, somehow.

“Yes, Anthony. A friend, or you thought I cannot have any?” Loki bristled. It was the best way to go. Stark wasn’t afraid of him per se, but he still was wary. They all were, and it was pissing him off.

“Oh, don’t get mad, Loki. He’s just a mortal, and you know how short-sighted those creatures are. Cannot blame them, though, such short, meaningless lives they lead.” She cooed, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. Loki smirked at her. She was possessive. He can feel the dislike rolling from her in waves. She didn’t like Stark, and Loki had a good idea why.

“Huh, figures, that you would be friends with a psycho-bitch with arrogance issues.” Stark quipped, and Loki’s magic bristled. The woman, laughed, though, sending a blast of energy Stark’s way, making him yelp and fall on his ass.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t taunt a psycho-bitch with issues, little one, can be dangerous.” She mocked, laughing at the wiggling mortal.

“You shit…” He swore, and yelped again, cursing vividly.

“No, I’m Tasha, and I suggest you call me by my name, little one.” She cooed, but anyone with a brain could hear the threat there. Loki sighed inwardly. He didn’t even think of asking her name, before accusing her of things that she was clearly not planning to do.

“Loki…” Anthony finally whined, when he couldn’t successfully stand. Loki chuckled, but quickly found that it wasn’t his energy that was messing with him. He raised an amused eyebrow at the smirking imp and sniggered.

“I cannot help you, Anthony. She’s indeed a powerful sorceress and her spells are not easily countered.” He explained, delighted to see the mortal flinch.

“Are you saying she’s more powerful then you?” He asked, a tiny silver of true horror sipping in his otherwise mocking tone.

“Yes.” Loki confirmed, not feeling ashamed in the slightest. She, arguably, was the most powerful creature in the whole Universe. Stark whistled then, raising his hands palms up.

“My apologies, Tasha.” He said in a placating tone, which earned him a sceptical eyebrow and a dismissive snort.

“Cannot even begin to phantom what you’ve seen in him.” Tasha murmured under her breath, making him chuckle.

“I was desperate.” Loki easily confessed, switching to the language Stark had no idea about.

“Why it’s always the brilliant one’s who get so fucked up, hm gorgeous?” She asked him teasingly, using the same language he did. He smirked at her playfully.

“You tell me, beautiful.” She smiled at him broadly, shrugging and giggling. She waived a dismissive hand at Stark though, who sighed relived, when he could finally stand without falling.

“Are you staying?” Stark inquired, and Loki perked up, wishing to know if he would have a chance to bask in her presence more.

“Not your business.” She dismissed Anthony again, making Loki snicker. “I presume you’re lingering on Midgard, yes?” She asked turning to him.

“Yes. I live in his tower. I’m on a probation of sorts.” Loki shared.

“Darn. This one gives me cramps.” She whined, chewing her lip.

“Will you be staying?” Loki asked hoping that he will get an answer.

“I’d love to. As I said you feel amazing, and I’d rather not go back to the constant pain and misery that were accompanying me in the void. Plus, we share the same enemy, so, it’d made sense if we work together to obliterate the scum, if you’re willing, of course.” She explained and asked simultaneously. It warmed the God. Moreover, with her as an allay he could finally be free from the constant fear and shackles that were suffocating him.

“It will be an honour to work with you. The mortals and Asgard will see your worth and will come to fear and respect your power.” Loki promised her, to be met with an amused smile.

“You misunderstood, Loki. I am willing to work with you, not them. I care none for any other respect, fear or anything. Thus, you may use my willingness to help as a bargaining chip for whatever that you want to get from them.” She offered, smiling at him serenely.

“You are something else entirely.” Loki concluded, his mind already calculating the possibilities.

“Can you stop conversing in hushes and codes? It makes me nervous.” Stark whined openly, obviously loathing their disregard of him.

“Awww, look, the little one thinks he can order me. How cute.” She taunted Stark in English, making him scowl, but he was smart enough to keep his tongue.

“You spoke in English, though.” He quipped, and she laughed.

“It’s a miracle you haven’t slit his throat yet. Is he that good or you’ve been treated that badly?” She asked Loki with a serene smile, that was itching for blood. The God’s cheeks’ dusted pink despite himself. At this very moment, he wished to be completely unattached, because she was stirring something delicious and primal in him; something he didn’t dare to hope existed.

“He gives me exactly what I need.” Loki defended Stark, even though the man didn’t really deserve it. Loki knew it, but still couldn’t blame him, because the God asked for it.

“Alrighty, no judgment. However, when you will tire of him treating you like trash, please, feel free to look my way and I promise to show you all the good things you’ve been missing out on, deal?” She teased, with a good humour and genuine sentiment, that for a moment took Loki’s words. For that second, all Loki wanted to do was to ditch them and join her.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” The God said instead, fearful and apprehensive again. She had genuine affection towards him, but how it came to pass Loki had no idea, and that didn’t sit well with him. Moreover, his magic’s obsession and his own growing affection were a reason for grievous concern, despite his heart’s utter unwillingness to analyse any of it and just take whatever was given to them.

Loki had to think carefully about his new ally, but, he, supposed, he could do it while enjoying her refreshing company.


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha Maria (Tasha) Stark was not a happy kid.

Howard, her glorified father, was disgusted with her. She was a female, and surely couldn’t properly understand the business nor science, nor anything that his heir should understand. It didn’t matter that she was a genius, nor that she built her first circuit board by the age of four, nor that she constructed the first engine by the age of six, nor that she graduated MIT by twelve. No, she was a huge disappointment, and that’s that.

Thus, Tasha grew unloved and unwanted, shun away by her kin and despised by her peers. She was an outsider and her work became her escape. She was content with AIs she had built, blueprints and ideas swarming in her head. Then her parents died, and she felt relieved.

The fame came crushing at her door, but she didn’t let it in. It was ugly and disturbing. The only one good thing that came out of it was the God.

She had met him in an opera, and at first deemed him to be a lunatic, which he was but for other reasons entirely.

Loki, like her, was an outsider. He was brilliant, inquisitive and otherworldly hot. They have hit it off and couldn’t really stop.

She was on cloud Nine, till she wasn’t.

Loki’s family’s issues were much worse than hers, and Loki was a tad unstable and prone to dramatics, thus, she wasn’t surprised when Frigga, his mother, appeared in her workshop beginning her to come and reason with Loki.

The long story short, she couldn’t save him.

In retrospect, she had to see it coming. All her life, she wasn’t enough, thus, why Loki should be different? He chose to go about his stupid tantrum, leaving her and everything else behind.

But she loved him blindly. That one moment, seeing him dangling from the stupid bridge…Her mind blanked out and she jumped after him. Suffice to say, it was a stupid move.

The void wasn’t meant for anything, but monsters, dwelling behind a veil of darkness. Her mind was torn apart and her body was crippled.

She was floating between everything and nothing, energies piercing her essence, disassembling her cells and puzzling them back in shapes they pleased.

She saw glimpses of different realities. In many of them she was a male. In some of them she was with Loki. Few of them gave them a good shot at happiness, rarely when they thrived till the end.

It was confusing and painful. She felt madness on her tongue, and wanted badly to give in, since she had nothing to return to.

She was undesirable. Her life was a joke, and she was so pitiful that she threw her life away for an ungrateful bastard, who didn’t even think of her.

Self-pity, that what it was.

She was naïve. Tasha thought that if she would love Loki completely, unconditionally and fiercely, it would be enough to fix him, but the truth was – love alone was never enough.

In the darkness and vacuum of the void, where she had no place to run nor ideas to hide behind, her life played slow before her. She had ampth opportunities to analyse every heartbeat, and she saw the deep-rooted sadness in Loki’s eyes that was constantly present, and his dramatic saying: _My love has come a little bit too late_, had a clear meaning now.

Loki couldn’t be fixed, and maybe her well-meant wish to heal him tipped him over. After all, Loki wanted to be accepted for who he was, and Tasha read him wrong.

But Loki loved her perfectly.

Tasha was the happiest when she was around him. He was attentive, sweet and caring. He was genuinely interested in her and her ideas. He shared knowledge and secrets with her. He explained seithr, and even allowed to experiment with it.

Tasha realized that Loki gave her a chance to eviscerate him, and she managed, what she didn’t get to do is to put him back together. But she wanted.

She wanted to see him one last time and apologize for being stupid; for not hearing and not seeing how fucked up he truly was. She wanted to hug him close and promise that she will love him no matter what.

She needed another chance, and, thus, her fight for survival began.

It took time. It took planning, a bargain and a piece of her, and led to nothing. Her Loki was dead.

She fell for a second time with no plans to return.

She got accustomed to the void, made friends with beings that were far more powerful than the ones who deemed themselves Gods, and discovered Multiverse.

Those glimpses of different scenarios she saw when she fell the first time weren’t a figment of her broken psyche. They were legit lives of her other versions.

It was agonizing to witness.

First few centuries, she felt like shit. She was in constant pain but couldn’t stop watching; couldn’t stop yearning. She was disgusted, frightened, pained but her eyes were wide open, and her heart was constantly bleeding.

She became more calmer after the fifth century, when she exhausted herself.

Stark and Loki were made for each other. Whenever there was Loki there would be Stark, and vice versa. It didn’t matter how and when or why, but they were bound to influence each other lives. Some were luckier than others. Some were downright cruel; some insane; some blissfully happy and in love. It made sense; Loki was a God of chaos. Stark worshiped it.

She was nearly at the doorstep, when she was derailed by Thanos.

Fucking maggot!

He threw her of course and she landed on Midgard. She was livid, and grabbed the first energy available, smiting the bugs and screaming her head off.

The energy leaped readily at her command, dancing to her voice, as if it waited a lifetime to connect with her, and it made her pause.

_Gorgeous _it whispered to her. _Ours _it murmured. _Stay_ it coaxed, and she frowned feeling a strong attraction to it. It never happened before. Frankly, she was uncomfortable with the energies swimming around her. They felt rather cold and hostile, but this one felt amazing.

“Would you mind if I take it back?” The voice that she would have recognized anywhere asked her, and she turned reluctantly, afraid that if she makes any sudden movements this reality will disappear into a dream, and she will wake up alone in the void.

Loki looked terrible, but still he was the handsomest man in the Universe. Her heart gave out a longing pang, and she had to concentrate hard not to do something stupid. She had to remember that this Loki was not hers. This Loki was a stranger, even though, he shared many qualities with her deceased God, he was different.

During the dialog, she couldn’t properly contain her unwarranted affection, and the more she heard from him and perceived from his magic, the more she longed to stay and fix this. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t right. She managed to stay away for thousands of years, surely, she can do it again.

Loki’s magic strongly disagreed. It kept telling her that they were fucked up and that they will die if she leaves. She knew that even if she stayed it wasn’t a guarantee. There were no guarantees whatsoever, and she wasn’t sure she could see Loki die twice, and never mind that she saw his death many times already. It wasn’t her Loki. They were strangers. She couldn’t lose another. No, she would not.

Her mind was abruptly changed when her counterpart appeared. Loki’s magic hissed and practically begged her to kill Stark. It angered her.

It was irrational, but how the fuck could he? She knew how important Loki was for them, and he just threw this opportunity? All right, the God was a piece of work, but damn!

She was livid. She desired to murder Stark, and she probably would have if Loki hadn’t interrupted her and switched her focus on him. She became mellow and promised things she had no moral right to promise. But his smile was so tender, and his magic became amiable, coaxing her, tempting her, and she surrendered.

“She will be staying.” Loki announced to the fidgeting, and clearly annoyed Stark.

“Where?” Came the naughty question, and Loki quickly realized that Stark was jealous too.

“What in the phrase “not your business” you do not get?” Natasha snapped at the impudent fool, who abused the treasure she was dreadfully missing.

“The part where Loki is a criminal and I am his parole officer.” The asshole replied. Natasha frowned, and then the avalanche of suppressed rage covered her.

“You are responsible for his well being?” She hissed dangerously low.

“And?” Stark challenged, and she had to vanish, because otherwise he would have killed him on the spot.

<-----<<<

In the end, Tasha ended up sharing his floor. Loki felt uneasy for about three minutes, before the glee and joy swiped him under and he was happily drowning in felicity, because being around her was exactly that, and the rest of the day which they spent together talking about nothing and everything simultaneously, proved his guess. Tasha was his, and there’s that.

He was reluctant to go to sleep, because that meant leaving her and he was not completely sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, because she was that good, and she behaved, like he was important, and loved, and it was fucking with him majorly, but despite it all he didn’t want to lose this, whatever it was, preferably ever. However, he was tired and eventually he let her talk him into sleeping.

The nightmares hit. Of course, they did. As if he wasn’t pathetic enough before, but a miracle happened. They hit and evaporated rather quickly, not even waking him up, which was an improvement. He was ready to catch some rare sleep, when Jarvis awoke him completely.

“Mr. Liesmith, your guest is on the floor, appearing to be unconscious.”

“What?” Loki asked, bolting from the bed to find Tasha sprawled on the floor beneath his bed. “What happened, Jarvis?” Loki inquired, rushing to her, and relaxing when his magic confirmed that she’s alright.

“I cannot say, Mr, Liesmith. Would you liked me to play the video?” Jarvis asked politely.

“Yes, please.” Loki said, picking her up and gingerly laying on his bed.

He settled near her watching how she entered the bedroom frantically, and the stopped, catching something. The impact threw her a couple of feet back. She looked concerned and embraced it. She cooed with a tender expression. Silly, affectionate sentiments, slipping from her pretty lips and his sleeping form started gradually relaxing.

Loki squinted his eyes, concentrating on the thing she was holding. The shapeless black mass loosened and brilliant green shone through. Loki gaped. It was his magic in her arms.

She stayed with it for a long while, holding it gingerly, until she abruptly lost consciousness.

<-----<<<

Loki was sitting at the couch, slouching mostly, drinking the elf’s spirits straight from the bottle. It was a shit week, and even a shittier day. She was away for a couple of days, and the life seemed to stop. He craved her presence and soft smiles. In contrast, Stark’s treatment felt more like a cruel torture, than anything else. Loki didn’t even get a sadistic pleasure from it, just pain and disgust. Every interaction with him became tainted, and eventually Loki would have to come to terms with the fact that he meant nothing to Stark from the beginning.

“So, that’s what you’re doing.” Her sweet, sweet voice remarked bemusedly, and Loki jumped turning in time to see her looming above him, gentle fingers touching the bruise and healing it. “No wonder Jinx hates him.”

“He’s not at fault. I’ve asked him to.” Loki murmured, his voice sounding unconvincing, because it was a blatant lie. 

“Sure, and like a decent being he told you to fuck off and pull your shit together, because you deserve to be happy, no matter the twisted hell you’ve been through.” She remarked sarcastically, pushing forward, invading his personal space and getting comfortable on his lap. Loki swallowed thickly, trying hard to find something good in himself and refuse the tempting warmth.

“I don’t deserve it.” He forced the words out of his mouth, to be laughed at.

“Whatever floats your boat, I guess. But let me ask you, do I deserve to be happy?” She inquired, brushing her nose against his cheek in a tender motion, caressing his neck gently, before slipping her hand inside his tunic to touch his skin softly. Loki shuddered, swallowing a beginning moan.

“Yes.” He answered sincerely, because she deserved anything she wanted.

“All right.” She purred, brushing her lips across his jaw, and he reflectively gripped her delicious hips to pull her closer. “And if my happiness depends on yours, would you deny me a chance to show you how wrong the world around you is in general and Stark in particular, when they say that you are nothing but a disgraced monster?”

Loki whimpered, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She held him tightly, albeit gingerly, waiting patiently for his answer and what he could say, besides: “No, I would not.”

“Great.” She purred, massaging his tight muscles, chasing the stress and tension away, and as much as he has fantasized about her, this wasn’t going into that direction. The touches were affectionate and gentle, designed to show the sentiment and appreciation. She was loving him, but in all the ways that he missed out on.

Sex, he figured, he could get anywhere. Stark one of those crippling places, but this soft adore was of limits to him. Maybe he could trick some, pretending to be someone else, and Nines, he did it, as well. However, it never felt this profoundly wrecking, because by this moment she knew everything there is to know about him. She spent weeks in the company of his magic, locked beyond worlds and chatting up the essence of him, and still was hell bent on making him hers.

“What good am I?” Loki whispered, tiny moans escaping his throat, asking for more, but her clever fingers kept thawing his walls tenderly, ignoring the primal call.

“That’s something you must decide yourself, Loki. Nor I nor anyone else can determine that. Don’t allow the Universe to convince you otherwise.” She breathed out, showering his skin with gentle adore. He arched into the touch, feeling selfish and greedy.

“To you personally.” He forced himself to specify, allowing her to tug his tunic off and shower his bruises and scars with tender affection. She healed the marks Stark left, lapping at the skin gingerly. Loki moaned and gasped, fingers flexing on her thigh.

“You’re my treasure, Loki, and you can make out of it whatever you desire.” She purred into the crook oh his neck and he couldn’t quite stop the sob that escaped from his throat.


	3. Chapter 3

The sacrificial dagger sliced his skin slowly, dragging out the burn. He moaned and arched into the toned body above him. Restrains biting into his skin deliciously.

His cock was hard and weeping, and his tormentor was yet to touch him for real. This was just a tiny taste of what could be offered, and Loki would not refuse this for the world.

<-----<<<

Loki would prefer the cell to this farce that the All-father was playing.

In all the centuries Loki pleaded with him, and tried to be the son Odin wanted, he got zero recognition, and when he finally snapped and send the cursed legacy to Hel, Odin decided to listen.

What a joke!

And some would say that that would be enough pain and disappointment for one tormented soul, but, apparently Norns decided that Loki could take a bit more, so the punch line knocked the last grains of positivism out of the God. Odin did listen, but not to him. He listened to Thor who parroted the same words Loki was shouting from the rooftops for years and saw wisdom in it. He praised his golden child and watched Loki with pity.

Loki was sentenced to fight for Midgard indefinitely, cleaning the mess with the Titan included, and so, the path to his _redemption_ was set.

At first, Loki tried to pretend it was working. After all, he only recently got his head clear and in some resemblance of working order. He felt confused as fuck, and, frankly, couldn’t vouch for his emotions. Loki wasn’t aware if they were his or the lingering residue of the mind-stone. Thus, he clung to the notions he was fed on Asgard.

He didn’t trust Odin, but his mother couldn’t be that wrong, right?

In the upcoming moths, Loki had discovered that she was entirely wrong, and he was not what they tried to make of him.

Loki found himself in the same bitter-sweet cage he was on Asgard. Nobody truly wanted to know him. They only wanted to see what was acceptable and everything else should be swept under the rug or brutally rooted out. For Loki it meant his entire personality.

Loki wasn’t happy with it. The nightmares returned and his head split from the unfairness, anger and self-hatred. His depression worsened and he feverishly longed for death.

Loki would have probably done something unforgivable if one night a drunk Stark didn’t barge in his room, with a foolish scowl on his face and even stupider exclamation: “Ya boring!”

Loki was many things but boring he was not!

From there on they formed a friendship of sorts that included: heated arguments, harsh insults, creative binges, embarrassing monologues, drunken nights and sex.

Loki loathed and adored the connection.

Stark was not gentle, nor he was affectionate. He treated Loki, like dirt and didn’t shy away from calling him a monster nor he took any bullshit. He was painfully and recklessly honest with the God, beating the lies out of him in the most painful ways; and Loki relished in it.

Stark didn’t give him a chance to hide. He showed everything into his face and demanded Loki to recognize it, and when Loki was stubborn enough to ignore the obvious Stark enforced punishments that were as brutal as they were pleasurable.

Loki was aghast. Loki was broken. Loki was addicted, and he kept returning to Stark, even though the voices in his head whispered to him that what they had was WRONG!

Stark encouraged darker desires to bloom in him. He didn’t miss anything and took Loki in one, clean and impressive stride. Stark gave him twisted hope.

Loki foolishly started to wonder if it was truly bad to be what he was – a monster?

Because he was a monster. He was a natural born killer. He was destined to destroy Nines, and no amount of love, punishments or brainwashing could change that.

It’s fitting: a Jotun, rejected by everybody; tortured by his own ego and pride goes insane, and drunk on a self-hatred and pity burns the Nines.

He could picture it. He could feel it: the end; the insanity; the pleasure.

Stark made him think a tad deeper. He made Loki’s pesky, mischievous demons whine deep down in the well of shame he buried them in.

_You can be understood_ they screeched. _You are not wrong_ they shouted. _It’s all right to be a monster_ they whispered. _You can be yourself _ they encouraged. _You can live_ they suggested.

Loki desperately wanted to believe it. But he daren’t hope it can be true.

Loki went through the circle of flimsy hope, false acceptance and inevitable rejection enough times to know that there was no one for him.

He was destined to suffer and then die pitifully to be forgotten come the morrow. He was nothing but a plaything to mock and break.

Loki was proven right a year into knowing Stark.

Loki got used to the man, and his heart played a trick on him. He stupidly decided that they were _together_ – exclusively.

Stark had not seen it that way. He laughed at Loki and threw his unrequited sentiment into his face. Loki’s heart cracked and he didn’t think much after it, searching for trouble.

The trouble was all too happy to lend him a hand.

Loki thought that the end had finally found mercy in its heart and came to claim him. No such luck.

Instead of it came a savior. Loki would have been pissed if the savior wasn’t attractive, intriguing and _Stark_.

He didn’t know how it came to pass, but his seithr recognized _Stark_ immediately. Granted, it wasn’t the Stark that he wanted, but Loki decided she would do, especially when his Stark appeared to be rather jealous of the new arrangement.

Time tickled slowly.

Loki got the taste of the pure, untainted love and his psyche became stable.

All was well and good. He had Stark that cherished him, without being overbearing about it. Loki was engaged in safe, loving, normal and stable relationship that did not require of him bloody sacrifices nor fits of insanity. He was working towards the common goal, mended the broken bridges and new friendships.

Loki had fit in and acquired the respect and recognition he desired. It was true change, and Odin proclaimed him redeemed before Thanos came to their doorsteps.

There were whispers of the wedding, and Loki found himself adequately happy, but annoyingly lacking.

Sure, the life became good, but it was even, bland, and, as his Stark said a half a year ago, boring.

He was accepted, but it lacked truthfulness. He was recognized because he rounded the edges, but they still jabbed him from time to time, and it took effort to force the mask of ordinariness back on.

He was creating, but it wasn’t brilliant nor revolutionary. He was afraid to share his thoughtless ideas clearly understanding that this Stark won’t get it.

He had love, but it was tasteless. He had sex, but it failed to bring him to Valhalla.

He craved to be with the mad man, but the mad man was apt at ignoring him. At first, Loki thought that his Stark would do something, judging by the aggressiveness he showed, but he did not. Then Loki, in a moment of weakness, has come to him. They had an ugly argument and fought. Afterwards, their interactions became small and meaningless. Thus, Loki decided that he wasn’t desired enough to make and effort, and switched his focus entirely on Natasha. 

Loki was never more wrong in his entire existence, because after one and a half year of pretending, his Stark barged in and whisked him away.

Loki was stunned. However, he shouldn’t have been. His Stark was brilliant.

He found a way around Natasha’s and his wards. He managed to build a device that nullified Loki’s abilities to sky walk and teleport, and Loki should have been scared, since the look in his Stark’s eyes was malicious, but he wasn’t. A shudder of desire wracked his body, and his sweet illusion had broken.

Loki wanted only him, and judging by the smirk the mad man acquired, he knew it too.

“Had your fun?” He inquired, venturing farther into the room.

Loki took a quick glance around the space.

It reminded him of the labs Stark had in the tower, except magic proofed and a bit too advance for Midgard. Loki inwardly whistled, yearning to know how Stark managed to acquire such knowledge, and hating that he missed the journey, which was undoubtedly thrilling.

“Are you coming?” Came an impatient voice from Loki's left. Loki chuckled, following the sound.

“Why have you brought me here?” Loki asked, coming closer to Stark, who was watching him shrewdly, screens flickering behind him, showing different lives of, well, them.

“To apologize.” Stark declared, but there was not a hint of regret in his voice.

“After a half a year?” Loki inquired incredulously.

Stark smirked at him, stepping into his personal space, and claimed his lips roughly. Loki yelped, unable to resist him, and noted that Stark became stronger than a regular human.

The kiss was savage, with brutal bites and passionate violence. Everything Loki craved and needed. It ignited the God’s blood, like nothing ever could. He moaned needy into the dominating caress, and felt no shame, only longing for more.

“I fucked up spectacularly, so, my apology should be just as glorious.” Stark proclaimed, when they fell apart, panting.

The haze of arousal clouded Loki’s thoughts, but he forced his mind to properly focus on the mad man before him.

“I thought I meant nothing to you.” He jabbed, for the thrill of it.

“In conventional ways you don’t. In unconventional ones you’ll see.” Stark promised, gripping his hand painfully, and dragged him closer to the screens. “Behold.” He said.

Loki, already, seen this. The screens displayed them in different circumstances, some of which Loki didn’t recognize.

“What that would be?”

“That would be Multiverse, and this would be the key to crack it.” Stark said giving him a device that looked, like a watch.

Loki stared at it in complete wonder, not knowing what to say. Thousand of opportunities appeared in his mind and none of them were good. Loki felt ashamed of himself for a minute, before he remembered in what company he was and allowed a vile smirk to slip out.

“Oh, I see you get it.” Stark purred.

“You did it for me?” Loki asked, greedy for compliments and attention, only now getting what exactly he meant for Stark.

“Partially.” Stark answered honestly, and, oh, how Loki missed this.

“How many of _you_ have you killed?”

“Not many. But it was highly therapeutic, nonetheless. However, if we want to truly go nuts, we need a bigger source of power.” Stark mussed.

“I have an idea…” Loki said and faltered.

They had a falling out, and during that time Stark found a way to crack a puzzle that boggled Loki for a time now, but which he only halfheartedly pocked. Stark could have had any Loki he wanted and yet, somehow, inexplicably, he returned to him.

“Why?” Loki posed a question, choking on the implications, and emotions, that tore them apart the first time, poured out of him and sipped into his voice.

Stark didn’t pretend nor hid from him. His face stayed devoid of softer feelings, but Loki could see the obsession shining in golden depths.

“I tried to replace you.” He deadpanned and Loki flinched, hurt, even though, he didn’t have any right for it. “It didn’t work out. Tell me, is it working for you?”

Loki wanted to say “yes”, turn and walk away. But it would be a blatant lie and they both would be aware of it.

“No.”

Stark smiled at him, and it took Loki’s breath away. He couldn’t remember if he had ever seen such an expression on Stark’s face. It was, almost, gentle.

“I figured it out several months ago and I was happy.” Stark confessed without shame. “That is when I started plotting on wooing you back.”

“Why, Stark? You made it pretty clear you don’t desire me, and I refuse to be your toy.” Loki bristled. 

“I do desire you, Loki. Only you, may I add, and I can say that with utmost certainty, because I had seen other you(s) and they are disgustingly unimpressive. I cannot give you normalcy, though, not that you want it, anyway.” Stark taunted, and Loki snarled, pinning him to the desk.

“I will kill you if you stray away again.” Loki warned, before claiming his lips in a savage kiss, dominating the man, and to Loki’s surprise he let him.

<-----<<<

Afterwards, it was arduous to return to his chosen role.

Loki’s seithr sang praises to Anthony, and shut Natasha out more aggressively than before. Even after everything his Stark had done to them he remained their favorite, and Natasha never quite could replace him, probably because she didn’t truly listen to them.

She wanted to fix Loki, and Loki had no need in that. What he needed was Anthony’s brash devotion, which this time around he planned to keep.

<-----<<<

It took them six months to defeat Thanos and collect the infinity stones.

Six months of pure bliss Tasha would say if anyone was courageous enough to ask her.

She was in love with the perfect God and he was answering her in kind. It was ideal, and she had to see it coming but it evaded her till the last possible moment.

She had a feeling that Loki was lying to her, but she wrote it off as his nature. He was a God of lies, after all, and honesty was not his strongest forth.

She caught them in the action.

Loki was bound and beaten, Stark fucking into him and by the state of Jinx she could undoubtedly say that Loki loved every second of it.

Her heart broke. She didn’t understand till the moment she saw a blue light flickering and electric shock piercing her body. She fell, like a stone, on the hard floor. Her body wasn’t responding, and she waited for them to do something, but for awhile they did not pay attention to her and she was forced to watch.

The harsh slap of skin and rattling of chains. Loki’s painful cries intermixed with moans of pleasure, hissed derogatory comments and curses. Stark slapped and punched and burned, while taking and mocking and ruining, and Loki begged for more, goading him into more cruelness. And when it had ended Stark didn’t bother to care for him, he left Loki to his own devices, stepping to her. Jinx leaped to his feat cleaning and dressing him. Stark smirked, shooing it away fondly.

A single tear rolled down Natasha’s cheek. She was entirely wrong about this couple. They were both cruel, heartless and insane; and unfortunately for her they were also an item.

“I hate you three-thousand.” Stark pronounced with malice, and her eyes widened. She wanted to scream at him and demand answers, but she was aware she would not get a chance.

They fucking knew.

Loki came to stand behind him, looping a hand around his hips and watching her amusedly.

“I’d say it was a pleasure but by now you know it really wasn’t.”

She could feel it too. Jinx burning her harshly, finally allowed to show its true colors, which were dark and entirely corrupted.

“Don’t get me wrong, I desire to kill you. I had to share him with you and…fuck…you get the gist. But we need a conduct for the power we acquired, and as a bonus, you would be a perfect gate to so many of us.” Stark purred and she shuddered with horror.

“So, so many to fuck over, torture and murder.” Loki added gleefully.

Another tear slipped, and she felt foreign energies entering her. It burned. It tore her apart, but she couldn’t scream nor escape it. She was forced to take it silently and watch them smiling ferociously at her.

“Such treasure.” Loki purred, picking her up gently and this was the most painful hit of them all. “I truly cannot phantom how could you not see that me is not something to love gently.”

She starred at him in terror, and then her head was yanked to the side to be met with mad brown eyes, which she did not recognize for all they were familiar. The soul inside this Stark was dead.

“He is something to own violently and tame with pure madness.”

“But you will learn given time.” Loki added serenely.

“Yeah, after all, you have a front sit.” Stark remarked and they both giggled.

She trembled, her heart chocking on the guilt and shame it felt.

She should have stayed away. She should have died. She should have never been born.

She should have known better than to stand between Loki and Tony Stark, since she knew how bad it ended for the interloper.

“Yeah, doll, shouldn’t have fucked with mine. None of you.”

<-----<<<

It went smoothly.

Anthony was his, and after hopping through numerous realities Loki understood what he meant. There were plenty of Starks and Lokis, but they came in pairs and none truly fit with another.

Loki simply got incredibly lucky, because his part was not going anywhere, not that he would allow him to live if he did venture away.


End file.
